Under Water
by Mush's Skittles
Summary: I felt the cool water caressing me, comforting me. It was a soothing limbo, under the water, and I found myself not wanting to surface. I learned that day; it’s never your last chance. Revised.


Hello, fellow FF.netters. I revised this fic, and just I wanted to take this opportunity to thank sincerely everyone who reviews my stories. I'd like you to know that I am by NO MEANS perfect, as claimed by a certain cousin of mine, but I am really flattered by your flattery (. So thank you very much!! All reviews, good and bad, are greatly appreciated! *Skittles*  
  
  
  
It was hard the first time.  
  
I wanted to run away. Run away from the guilt, from the shame. But spot conlon doesn't run away from anything, not fights, not responsibility, not guilt or shame, not pain, anger, or remorse. Spot conlon faces the facts. Spot conlon is calculating and cold and intelligent. He's deadly.  
  
My anger had taken over again. How old was he? Six? Seven? But he had challenged me, spot "brooklyn" conlon, and no one challenges my authority, especially not a smart ass kid who thinks he's tough.  
  
Not so tough now, are ya? Ain't so tough when ya cryin' foah ya mama, beggin' me to stop throwin' punch after punch. Beggin' me ta leave ya alive.  
  
The adrenaline was still pumping through my veins when jack walked in and, with the help of skittery and mush, pulled me off of the unconscious little brat. I turned on them.  
  
No one challenges spot conlon. No one. Mush went down with a kick to his groin, and skittery and jack managed to take me hostage. Take me prisoner. They held me long enough to let me cool off, until the intoxication from the fight was gone.  
  
I felt the anger drain out of me like some sort of life force. I felt weak and limp, devoid of any humanity. I wanted to run away. He was a child. He could have had a life.  
  
He was stupid. It wasn't his fault.  
  
Ya got angry, stop makin excuses, conlon.  
  
My boys had fled, to the bunkroom, to the restaurant, anywhere but the common room where i had killed a child for challenging my authority. They took care of the kid. I sat. I had taken a human life because of my own insatiable anger. A soul. A body. Feelings. Emotions.  
  
No one challenges spot conlon.  
  
I kept my mask on, kept the anger in my eyes. Spot conlon is supernatural. Spot conlon does not feel pain, or remorse.  
  
Mush, skittery and jack sat in the common room with me, whatever they had come for forgotten. The sultry august heat was all but banished from the room in the emptiness of the situation. Everything was empty. Everything felt dead. The silence rang in my ears like the roar of a lion.  
  
I got up, and no one made a motion to stop me. They hoped i would not do anything irrational, but who were they to hold me back?  
  
I wanted to run away. Spot conlon doesn't run away from anything.  
  
So i walked.  
  
I walked quietly, solidly, quickly, from the lodging house all the way to the docks. Not too far, but far enough in the heat, when you've got a human's life on your slate.  
  
My palms were sweaty, and i rubbed them on the course fabric of my pants, staring into the cool blue reflected in the east river.  
  
I heard mush creep almost silently up to the docks. He hid well. If i had turned around to look for him, i wouldn't have been able to find him. It didn't matter though, i guessed he would have been sent to follow me, and i'd been listening for him.  
  
I took off my hat and twisted it in my hands, letting my too long hair fall into my eyes. My hands pulled and yanked on the rim of the old wool cap, and its fibers groaned from the stress. I felt that instead of a hat, i was toying with my own self, yanking on my own woolen heart, tearing my own woolen heartstrings. I cursed myself for the thought of spot conlon's heart being so impressionable. So weak. I threw it down at my feet.  
  
i sat on the edge of the dock, and removed my shoes. I took off my shirt and let down my suspenders.  
  
He was only a kid.  
  
I dove into the river.  
  
I felt the cool water caressing me, comforting me. It was a soothing limbo, under the water, and i found myself not wanting to surface.  
  
I ran my hands over my face under the water, scrubbed my face, my chest, my arms, wanting to be rid of the shame, regret, and sorrow.  
  
I wanted to be cleansed of this, rinsed of it all. The water around me seemed to sing with condolence.  
  
I opened my eyes and found i was still under the water, looking up at the sun. It beckoned to me, calling me back to it.  
  
My lungs started to burn and spasm. Suddenly, the surface of the water seemed miles away, and the water turned from a cleansing, purging spirit to a pounding, surging, pressuring demon.  
  
Fighting upward and upward, i felt my legs and arms start to weaken. Start to fail me.  
  
I almost laughed. If i didn't get to the surface, i would have killed two people today.  
  
My head broke through the silver skin of the water, and i gasped for breath. I lunged for the pole of the dock and held on, breathing deeply the warm, fulfilling air.  
  
I was overwhelmed with a sense of relief, a feeling of, "oh well.."  
  
No matter what, i thought, i have to keep going.  
  
I climbed the rope ladder, and lay on the dock, letting the sun warm my skin.  
  
He was only a kid.  
  
I stared at the sun until my eyes watered, tears washing away tears.  
  
Spot conlon doesn't cry. Spot conlon doesn't run away.  
  
The sun dried me off from top to bottom sooner than i had expected, and my eyes were still watering, but now it was truly the work of the sun.  
  
Then, the sun dried those tears too.  
  
I got up, picked up my hat, my shoes, my shirt, and walked back to the rest of my life. 


End file.
